Page 119 of That Fake Feeling
“So,I’vedone it, right?”Istop pacing. “I’vedone everything you wanted me to do.Everything’sa roaring success.”
Theyall nod.
Okay, here goes. “Ishould have told you this years ago.ButI’mgoing to tell you now.”
Myheart thumps so hard my whole body pulsates in time with it.
I’vecome this far.I’vewalked to the edge of the cliff.NowIneed to jump off.
Ilook along the line of faces staring at me with varying degrees of puzzlement and concern.
Therest of my life depends on me having enough faith in myself to say just one more sentence.
“Idon’t want to…to be aCEO.”
Ipause for a second, to give them a chance to be let down, appalled, angry, or some combination of the three.
Butthey all stare back at me in silence.
Maybeit’s so awful they can’t even comprehend it and need more clarification.
“I’veneverwanted to be aCEO.Itmakes me as miserable as fuck.AndI’mnot going to do it anymore.”
That’sit.It’sout there.I’vefinally had the balls to say it.It’sall splattered on the table now.
Andit’s like a ten-ton weight has been lifted off my back.
NowIjust have to deal with the consequences.
Maxleans forward and turns to look at the other two.FirstatElliot, who shrugs at him, then atWalker, who tugs at his god-awful beard and furrows his brow.
Maxturns back to me. “Isthat it?”
Itake a deep breath.
“Yup.”Ifling my arms out wide. “Yourfuckup of a brother is fucking things up again.”
“Howdoes that fuck up anything?”Walkerasks. “It’llmake things better, won’t it?Ifyou stop doing something you hate?”
“Whyhave you kept doing something you don’t like?”Elliotasks.
“Yeah.”Maxstands up. “Andwhy have you never said anything before?”
What?
Mymouth moves, but no sound comes out.Itdoesn’t even know what words to form.HaveIentered a parallel universe whereIhave a different family who doesn’t measure success by the value of the company you started?
Mybrow is knitted so tightly, my eyes screwed up so much,Ican barely see them.
“Because…”Mybrain finally sends some signals to my mouth. “It’swhat we were all supposed to do.”Ihold my palms up to the sky. “Right?”
It’slikeI’mspeaking a language they don’t understand.Ortrying to explain astrophysics to a three-year-old. “Ididn’t want to let downMomandDad.Oryou guys.”
Imake eye contact with each of their confused faces in turn. “MomandDadwant me to be running a company like you all do.They’llthink anything else would be pissing my life away.”
Stillnothing registers.Howcan they not understand whatImean? “Andthere wasThePact.”
“Well, yeah.”Maxsteps over to me and pats me on the back. “Butno one wants you to make your own life a misery.Especiallyover a promise we made when we werekids.”
